


Will You?

by lsdme



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:50:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsdme/pseuds/lsdme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Walt is twenty three he meets Josh Ray Person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You?

_  
**Fic: Will You?**   
_   


**Title:** Will You?  
 **Author:** [](http://l-s-d-me.livejournal.com/profile)[**l_s_d_me**](http://l-s-d-me.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing:** Ray/Walt  
 **Word Count:** 2200  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Summary:** When Walt is twenty three he meets Josh Ray Person.  
 **Disclaimer:** Quite fictional in every particular. Based off performances in Generation Kill

  
When Walt is five years old he asks the girl down the street to marry him. When he is eighteen and drunk off liquor and sex he asks his girlfriend of three years.

They both look at him like he’s crazy.

When Walt is twenty three he meets Josh Ray Person.  
______________________________________

“Holy hell, Hasser!” Ray is yelling into Walt’s face from about a foot away. “Where the fuck did you find this?!”

Walt is leaning against the side of the humvee. His t-shirt is sticking to his chest, suspenders hanging down around his sides, nothing out of the ordinary - except for the jalapeño and cheese he is moving from hand to hand as if bored.

“The hell you talkin’ about, Person?” Walt asks, working to keep the smile off his face. It’s hard though when Ray’s eyes squint at him (his attempt at looking threatening), and he puts his hands on his hips out of frustration.

“Oh I don’t know,” Ray’s voice becoming more and more incredulous as he goes on. “Maybe that jalapeño and cheese you just ninja-ed out of thin-fucking-air.”

“It wasn’t thin air, it was my pocket. And I didn’t _ninja_ it. You watched me grab it.”

Walt is enjoying this. He’s not giving in even a little bit and he can see it slowly frustrate Ray.

It’s adorable.

Maybe a month before, Walt realized that Ray Person is the craziest motherfucker he’s ever met. But along with the crazy, Walt also realized that Ray is one of the few genuinely nice people he’s ever come in contact with - which is saying something considering where he’s from.

He may have also noticed how good he looks when he’s smiling at his own jokes, concentrating on listening to instructions from Brad, and the way his brow furrows when he can’t get his lighter to work.

But that’s all besides the point right now because Ray is moving closer to him, and Walt can’t help but smile now as he brings the MRE up to his teeth and slowly rips it open, never losing eye contact with Ray. Ray’s mouth twists in one of those rare smiles that Walt likes to think holds more behind it than just friendship.

“You might be the purest evil of all fucking pure evil in the world Walt Hasser.” Ray states matter-of-factly.

Walt just shrugs, rolling his eyes a little. He starts to raise the pack back to his mouth like he’s going to squeeze the contents right in when he feels the warmth of Ray’s hand around his own. A second later Ray is pulling Walt’s hand, still holding the MRE, towards his mouth. Walt’s heart is racing as he watches Ray’s mouth close around the packet, biting and sucking the cheese right into his mouth. Ray groans and angles his eyes up at Walt’s.

Walt feels his cock twitch, both grateful and disappointed that Ray isn’t pressed up against him to feel the affect he has on him.

When Ray pulls off, Walt’s mind races through a hundred different scenarios that also involve Ray’s mouth. But in these scenarios there’s a lot less guns, war, sweat, and dirt. Well, maybe there’s some sweat and dirt mixed in.

“Goddamn.” Walt hears Ray talking again. “You keep pulling surprises like that out of your pants I’m going to fucking marry your country ass before you can even get back to that pussy east coast state of yours.”

Walt wants to make a joke, his mind is working overtime to come up with something that would sound natural, but Ray’s looking at him with those big brown eyes and still has his hand wrapped around Walt’s. Thinking is pretty much impossible at this point.

“Corporal you’re such a faggot,” Trombley yells from inside the humvee.

“I know you are but what am I!” Ray shoots right back, moving even closer to Walt so he can see through the window to Trombley’s side. “Real mature,” Walt whispers while trying not to put too much stock into the fact that Ray basically has him pressed up against the side of the humvee.

“For the love of God, Trombley,” Ray starts, ignoring Walt even though he’s right there against him. “Just because Walt pulled something out of his pants that I wrapped my mouth around and sucked on, doesn’t make me gay.”

Walt hears Trombley mumble something about Ray being disgusting before climbing out of the humvee, wandering off to God knows where.

“Kids these days,” Ray says, shaking his head in disappointment.

Walt licks his lips trying to hide the smile breaking across his face. He notices Ray’s eyes dart to his mouth, his body sways in closer, and then he’s letting go of Walt’s hand, the jalapeño and cheese packet, and stepping back.

It’s the first time Walt knows that Ray can sense it too; maybe even wants it too.  
_______________________________

“Holy fuck I am going to marry you,” Ray groans out as Walt’s mouth moves hot and tight around his dick. Walt had pushed Ray against the door of his apartment, pinning him there a moment after Ray let him inside.

It had all started like everything else starts out; a look that lasts a little too long, a smile that’s a little too private. Walt knew though, every time his leg was nudged by Ray while he was up on the turret because he didn’t want to sing alone, every time a brotherly pat on the back lasted a little too long. He knew from the minute Ray’s hand grazed his while they were walking from the buses after getting back to Pendleton that it wasn’t just him anymore. It was going to be him and Ray for however long they could.

The two weeks after getting back from Iraq had been filled with waiting, beer, more waiting, and drunken kisses behind bars. But now they’re free from the corps - at least for a little bit - so Walt grabbed a case of beer, some food, and went straight to Ray’s apartment in Oceanside.

So now Walt is on his knees, hands gripping Ray’s hips hard, keeping him still against the door. Learning. Tasting. Trying to know Ray Person better than anyone else. He’s getting there.

There are two things Walt has learned about Ray the past week; his mouth is just as talented as Walt always thought it would be, and he likes it when he’s dominated.

And so here Walt is, right where he wants to be, pinning Ray against the door, licking and sucking him off into oblivion. He can hear Ray keening, muttering “Walt” over and over again. He’s running his hands through Walt’s hair. Walt closes his eyes at the feel of it, moving faster to show his appreciation. Soon Ray is coming down his throat, and Walt holds him even tighter. He wants every drop Ray has to offer, he wants it all.

When Walt finally lets go of him, leaning back onto his heels, Ray slides down practically in his lap. The weight of him threatens to press hard against Walt’s erection still straining his shorts.

Ray is looking at him with eyes blown wide, mouth gasping for air. This is all so new that Walt still can’t take his eyes off Ray when he’s like this; nervous energy gone, an open look on his face. Walt almost asks Ray if he knows how good he looks in moments like these, but knowing Ray, Walt is sure that he would probably laugh and ask him to tell him something he didn’t know.

“Well,” Ray says, putting his hands on Walt’s shoulders. “Good to see you too.”

Walt can’t help but look down a little, blushing. He hadn’t quite realized that he pushed past Ray without either of them saying hello.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Hasser,” Ray smiles, tilting Walt’s face up to his. Walt can feel his heart pounding as their lips meet. It’s gentler than Walt thought it was going to be; still, he can feel it everywhere. Ray has his hand gently holding Walt’s chin while their lips press and play against one another.

It’s downright sweet.

“So what did you bring me?” Ray asks, nodding his head towards the bags.

Walt is confused for a second before remembering that he was carrying a couple bags with him. Apparently he loses track of everything else when faced with Ray Person; new fact of the day.

“I brought beer. And some food.”

“Shit, homes. After that greeting I’m making you the best meal of your farm-fed life,” Ray says, standing up, making sure his clothes are in order. Walt wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to zip his pants up all the way, but forgets it the moment Ray holds his hand out to help him off the floor.

It’s moments like these that makes Walt realize how most people don’t know Ray. They know the man who rants about crack-pot theories and never seems to be still. They know nothing of this Ray, of Walt’s Ray.  
_____________________________

Ray is stuttering as Walt fucks him slowly. “Walt…Walt… oh my god. Please… fuckin’…fuckin’ marry me….aauhhhh.” Walt’s got one hand on Ray’s waist, and one holding his hands above his head. Hot. Intimate. Lips grazing.

Yet Walt almost laughs thinking how funny it is that whenever Ray is really happy he proposes marriage. Of course, laughing with his dick buried in Ray’s ass probably wouldn’t send the best message, so he focuses back on the task at hand: getting Ray off.

As Ray writhes below him, Walt closes his eyes, feeling the way Ray moves around him.

“Shit, Ray,” Walt groans out, sliding his hand up from Ray’s hip, over his rib cage, and settling is along Ray’s jaw to cup his face. “Look at me Ray,” Walt gasps out, holding Ray’s face still. “Look at me.”

When Ray’s eyes meet Walt’s they’re dark, pupils blown wide and bleeding into Ray’s already dark brown irises.

The first time Walt noticed the chocolate brown color of Ray’s eyes they were holed up in their tent at Mathilda. It was late at night and the Shamal was raging around them. Walt was laying on his bed roll reading a magazine, not paying attention to any of the men around him when someone opened their tent and yelled, “We need Marines with sledgehammers!” Walt stood, reaching for his sledgehammer. But when he turned, Ray was right there, face lit up with humor. His eyes, brown and dancing in the dim light of their tent.

And here, months later, with Ray sweating beneath him, Walt sees the same eyes, both dark and light at the same time, dancing in front of him.

“Walt…Walt….” Ray’s voice breaks through his memories. “Walt… touch me.”  
___________________________

“Do you mean it?” Walt asks an hour later, walking back into the bedroom with a glass of water.

“Mean what?” Ray says, leaning over to the table to snuff out his cigarette.

The whole house is dark, save for the light coming in from the street through their bedroom window. In this light Ray’s tattoos stick out in stark relief against his skin, like a road map of places Walt loves.

“You know,” Walt hints, leaving ‘all those times you’ve asked me to marry you over the past year’ silent on his tongue.

“I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific than that Walt baby.”

Walt doesn’t know how to word it, or if he even wants to now.

“It’s just…” he begins, suddenly nervous.

“Yeah,” Ray prods, obviously not letting this go.

“It’s just that you, you know, propose marriage… a lot.” Walt is whispering by the end.

When Walt glances at Ray he’s giving him an unreadable look. A look that Walt doesn’t think he’s ever seen before, and he prides himself on knowing Ray inside and out. It’s out there now, so Walt pushes his apprehension aside and asks again.

“Do you mean it when you ask?”

Ray exhales.

“Yes… no… yes… I don’t know,” Ray says, suddenly looking uneasy - the unguarded look he had moments ago, gone. “I mean… You can’t blame me for wanting to lock this down,” he says, waving his hand in Walt’s general direction. “I mean, shit, have you ever seen yourself? Plus you put up with my retardedness, and that alone means you deserve some kind of a reward. And what better than a lifetime of me?”

“I don’t think you understand the term ‘reward’” Walt instinctively insults back at him, only to start blushing because he knows this is exactly what he wants, only he never believed he’d get it.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing!” Ray yells, sitting up. “You _do_ want to marry me,” he laughs before pulling Walt into him.

Walt can feel his blush fading as he saddles his head in the crook of Ray’s neck. It’s cool there with the night breeze coming in through the window.

“I can’t help it,” Walt starts. “I’ve always wanted to get married, you know? I even proposed to my girlfriend the night before I joined the Marines. It’s just somethin’ I’ve always wanted.”

“I guess there’s only one thing left to do now,” Ray breathes out, tilting Walt’s face up to his. “Walt Hasser, will you be my Susie Rottencrotch?”


End file.
